


Clint Eastwood

by yourrhinestoneeyes



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, consoling things, mentions of self harm and past suicide attempts, soon after Rockso was with Dory and Pickles band started falling apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3399752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/yourrhinestoneeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the 80s, it's also around the time two different glam boy rockers watch their careers fall apart. The way to handle their problems? Hole up together in a hotel room and go on a drug bender to work things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Didn't Mean To

He loved her, he loved her more than he had actually loved any living thing in his life. He didn't even love himself. So why were they telling him that he had hurt her, that he was a bad person? 

Rockso struggled against the cuffs that bit into his wrists, the cop leading him to the squad car smacked him in the back of the head.

“Dr. Rockso didn't do nothing wrong. I'd never hurt her, I-I love he-her.”

“You're only making this worse for yourself, fucking pervert.” The older man yelled.

Bystanders stood by and watched curiously at the scene before them. Not because they really cared, but there was a naked twenty something year old with thick blue hair, and face paint being shoved into the back of a cop car. It was humiliating. Somehow that word barely covered it. He wasn't even really embarrassed by the situation though, he was more distraught and confused. Rockso looked around at the people who stared, half of them laughed, and others looked ready to just go back to their cars and leave. Among the people he spotted Dory standing there; two cops stood with her talking to her. She looked embarrassed, when she noticed Rockso looking at her with sad confused eyes the look of embarrassment turned to one of shame. She quickly looked away from him and went back to answering questions for the cops.

The middle aged man leading Rockso to the car hit him when he noticed that he had been looking at her. He was also more rough than needed when he shoved the singer into the back of the car. He still couldn't help, but stare out the window at her. He watched the girl he'd spent weeks loving and dedicating every fiber of his being to. She stood there awkwardly rubbing at her arm and avoiding looking in his direction. He knew that she felt bad, she probably even thought that he was mad at her, but he wasn't. It was his fault. He shouldn't have even talked to her in the first place, he should have known she really wasn't eighteen. He thought about how badly he probably just fucked up her life, not even his own. He knew he was fucked and he could accept that. Just fucking things up for her, potentially hurting her that was the part that bothered him the most.

When they arrived at the police station the looks he received from the cops inside were mostly cruel. It wasn't exactly the first time he had been arrested in Texas and it probably wouldn't be the last time it would happen either. 

They kept him in the holding cell still naked for nearly an hour before 'finally' finding clothes for him to wear. He spent the time until his manager came to get him out of there sitting in the corner with his long legs pulled up against himself and avoiding the creepy looks he was getting from the much larger and much more violent men he was stuck in there with. 

He hated jail, he didn't like cops, or the people who got arrested. They got arrested for fights, rape, and murder; he normally got arrested for drug possession. Except he wasn't in there for that this time. He was in there for having sex with a minor. Thinking of it that way made him feel sick. It didn't feel like that to him, he hadn't known she was under age. She wasn't some groupie or hooker, she was a nice girl that he loved a lot. She had a name and she smelled nice, she made him happy, and didn't judge him for the things other people judged him for. Yet when the cops talked about it they talked about child molestation and rape. It made him feel sick and scared. The worst part being the lack of anybody to talk to about it, the one person he'd had to talk to and run to was the one he legally was supposed to stay away from now.

“God damn it, what the fuck did I tell you about getting arrested?”

Rockso looked up to see his pissed off manager standing on the other side of the bars, arms folded across his chest, and glaring down at him. 

The blue haired singer climbed to his feet and went over to the bars separating him from the man who was getting him out of this shit hole.

“I-I didn't m-mean t-to.” He stuttered out.

“You seriously couldn't fucking tell she was a kid?”

“N-no I....She told me sh-she was...”

“Yeah look whatever. By some fucking miracle of God they're letting you out of here. You just can't go anywhere near that chick you were banging. Got it?”

“Y-ye-yeah I go-got it.” he agreed nodding his head.

It was another twenty minutes until they let him out. Even on the way out of the building cops were still looking at him like if it was legally fine they would shoot him in the head. Even when he'd been a teenager cops hadn't liked him that much, especially his own father.

He got into the cab his manager had called for the two of them and spent a near hour of staring out the window at the passing buildings while just barely listening to the man in the suit chastising him. He'd heard it all before. He needed to be more careful, he needed to do less drugs, he needed to stop acting like a spoiled teenager, etc.

He didn't care about it. He was still more heavily fixated on the future he thought he'd have, but was completely robbed away from him in one night. He wondered where Dory was. He wondered if her parents were upset with her or if she told them some creepy guy in his twenties did things to her she didn't consent to. He couldn't believe she would say something like that, but right now he didn't know what to think or expect in terms of her. She didn't even tell him her real age and yeah he could have probably figured it out easily, but he'd been in love. He was still in love. There were hundreds of moments lying on too small hotel room beds with her, running his fingers through her soft thick blond hair and talking about a future together. He could have figured it out then, but she acted mature, and like his manager was still reminding him; he wasn't smart.

“Hey are you even fucking listening to me?”

“Wh-wh-what?” Rockso asked finally turning his head to look at the man sitting next to him.

“God you're fucking pathetic. I don't even know why I waste my time trying to tell you anything. Fucking idiot.”

His manager sort of reminded him of his dad. He wasn't sure if that was good or if it made him want to jump out of the still moving car.

“I said I-I'm so-so-sorry”

“That doesn't really fucking fix anything, especially when your stupid ass keeps fucking up every chance that you get. This kinda shit right here? That fucking wrecks careers. You're fucked. I'm probably gonna be fucked after this. Thanks man. Fucking idiot.”

He was relieved when they arrived at the hotel. The moment the cab pulled to a stop he was out the door despite the fact his manager was still yelling at him for being useless and retarded. 

Rockso knew he wasn't highly intelligent, he'd found that out quickly in school. It had been a combination of his severe hyperactivity disorder, a not too orderly home life, and his lack of really giving a shit that made teachers tell his parents he was a lost cause. He had been called a lost cause when his mother had been crying and his father had been yelling and telling him to get out of their house. Even now at twenty-seven he was deemed a lost cause. So why fucking stick around?

He didn't have family, he lost literally the only person he felt he could actually love in any shape or form. 

Even when he entered his trashed hotel room to get his shit together to leave his band mates didn't really react beyond looking up and grunting in acknowledgment. Nobody cared. That was the thing. He wasn't even sure he cared anymore. He had enough money to last a few days, well at least enough to get him blasted out of his fucking mind for a few days. Nobody questioned when he changed into some of his own clothes then left. If this meant his band was broken up then he wasn't sure he cared. There were creepy voices in his head telling him how fucked up he was and how useless he was. He still couldn't grasp that what happened had really happened. It was nearly three in the morning and all he could think was the past few hours consisted of his life falling to shit. 

He walked until he got to the outskirts of the city, he dropped to the gross trash littered ground and just sat there staring down at the muddy and trash filled water. He could hear cars and trucks speeding down the streets and the highways, he could hear people shouting, and mostly he just heard the sounds in his own head. Sounds he hated. He was alright until he thought about how at the beginning of the night Dory had whispered to him how much she loved him.


	2. Over Doses Suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE writer's block and I know this story won't get many hits, but I enjoy writing it and DO want to work on it y'know.

Over dosing wasn't unusual; by now Pickles had it down to an art form and bordering on a hobby. That didn't mean it sucked any less though. Something about waking up in a brightly lit hospital with a horrid migraine wasn't too fun. The singer barely remembered the night before. He remembered a bit of heroin, a bit of LSD, and maybe a few shots of something green. He wondered who called for the ambulance this time, he doubted it would be Tony. That asshole rarely got help for him, he didn't handle situations well; he generally just went into panic mode.

“It's about time that you wake up.”

The red head looked over to see his band's latest manager standing in the doorway. The pudgy middle aged man with his gray rat tail was glaring at him, he wreaked of shit pot, and dressed like the seventies hadn't ended yet. With the mood that Pickles was currently in he had the urge to knock him down and cut the last strands of hair from his fat head, but the IV in his arm and the throbbing in his skull kept him from acting out violently.

“Dude what the hell happened?” 

“You got into a bar fight and over dosed, if it hadn't been for some kid calling an ambulance your dumb friends were gonna toss your ass in a dumpster.”

“Douche bags” The younger man muttered.

He buried his face in his hands trying his best to block out the florescent lights that made the small room impossibly bright. He felt better with his eyes closed.

“I came here to convince the doctors to not keep you longer.” 

“Why the hell would they keep me longer, I just fucking over dosed.”

“It's the third time. This month. In this fucking city.”

“So what?” He asked annoyed.

His manager grabbed his wrists pulling his hands away from his face, the red head glared at him getting close to the edge of wanting to beat his ass.

“They think you're suicidal you idiot.”

“What, why?”

“Oh I don't know something about fucking self inflicted wounds on your legs.”

“God damn it, that was fucking years ago. Stupid fucking doctors.”

Pickles pulled out of the heavy set man's grip, he began rubbing at his forehead wondering when he would get out of the hospital so he could smoke weed and take care of this migraine.

“They suggest you see a shrink or something.”

“No”

“That's what I told them, I knew you fucking wouldn't go for it.”

“No shit”

Pickles made an irritated sound when the manager sat down beside him on the small hospital bed.

Why the fuck was he hanging around, he was sweating and smelled terrible. He thought to himself he should fire him after today, get somebody who sucked less, or just go without a manager. Maybe just quit his whole fucking band...

“What I did decide is you might need to go to rehab.”

That caught the red head's full attention; he sat straight as he glared at the other man. His manager cautiously got up off of the bed and took a couple of steps back.

“Rehab, fucking rehab? Fuck you dude!” The younger man yelled voice cracking slightly.

“It might not be all that bad of an idea, somebody interested in you suggested it actually.”

“Oh so somebody fucking suggested it, who?”

“A guy, some guy from a fucking label. They might be interested in you if you clean your shit up.”

“I don't have a fucking problem, I'm fine. Fuck you and whatever assholes you got talkin' to you. Knew I never should have hired your fat vegan ass.” He continued to yell angrily at his manager.

If he wasn't so sore and fed up he might feel bad for yelling at the poor guy, but he could really care less. In two more seconds he picked up the remote from the bed side table and hurled it at his head, thankfully his manager moved out of the way avoiding being harmed.

“Just fucking get out of here you useless fuck.” 

The older man stepped back holding his hands up in front of himself as if to say he was calling a truce against the angered red head on the bed.

“You really should maybe consider it man.”

“Just get the hell out.”

His manager stood there for another second or two before turning and leaving the room. The singer sat with his legs pulled up against himself and his face buried in his hands. He worked to calm his temper and his nerves in the hour before the doctor and nurses showed up to perform a psychological exam on him and make sure he would be alright to leave before evening.


	3. Drunk Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reposting this chapter, because somehow my computer mixed files together.

Oh fresh air was nice. Well as fresh as air in the city could get, it felt even better when Pickles took the first drag from his cigarette pulling the nicotine and wispy smoke deep into his lungs before releasing it into the ever darkening night sky. 

At least he had a semi clean bill of health. More so he had enough money and threw a Sid Vicious styled bitch fit of the year to get himself out of the hospital. For a second there he had thought they would just lock him away for his temper alone, but it mostly seemed to exhaust them.

He smirked to himself as he stood outside of the hospital waiting for the taxi they had called for him to come around. People going into the building looked at him, especially the staff. Something about the deep south and a guy in clothes more so meant for women had the tendency to earn the wrong kind of looks. He liked the confusion it caused, but the guys around here weren't really the type he wished to attract. They weren't bad looking they just had that morality hang up and were horrible lays. A waste of his time. Maybe the nearest bar would have a better selection. Not like he was really out to get laid right now anyway.

His new mission was more so on the terms of getting fucked up. Really fucked up.

Pickles felt a wave of relief and a bit of excitement when the taxi pulled up alongside the curb. He dropped the remainder of his cigarette to the ground stubbing it out quickly with the toe of his boot before going to the awaiting vehicle, he told the middle aged man in the driver's seat to take him to a bar he had been to far too many times in just the past week alone. 

Not the best sane rational idea to have right after getting released from a hospital after over dosing, but he wasn't full of bright ideas or respect for his own body. He just knew enough to know he was twenty-five and by some God awful miracle of the universe nothing had killed him yet, might as well keep pushing his luck while he had some of it left.

The nearest bar wasn't the greatest in the world; it was small and set off in the middle of nowhere, but there weren't all that many people in it. None of his band mates or friends were there which made it nearly perfect. He didn't really want to deal with his friends bad habits or hear their excuses on how they for sure thought he was dead this time and they really did want to help, but didn't know what to do. He was getting tired of it, even a bit tired of them. It felt strange to think he was getting sick of people he'd known since high school. He was though, he needed a massive change in his life, or it was the fact he'd been sober all day that was making him think this way.

He made his way up to the bar and requested a shot of whiskey from the tired looking man behind the bar who seemed less than eager to have this job.

“T-two for me”

Pickles looked over at the sound of the cracking feminine voice. He strangely enough felt kind of happy when he noticed the tall lanky blue haired man in the clown face paint. He hadn't seen him for a few months, he also had vague memories of the last time they had hung out. Black out amounts of drinking and drug abuse tend to do that to ones memory.

“Hey what are you doing here dude?”

The taller man smiled shyly when the other singer talked to him.

“J-ju-just getting over som-something, how long h-h-have you been here?” 

“Long enough to OD last night then get told off by my manager.” The red head replied smirking, he downed the shot the bartender gave to him then passed it back to be refilled.

“Y-y-you okay?”

Pickles shrugged, he downed his second shot and watched as his friend downed his first.

“Yeah fucking happens all the time, not a big deal. Not sure why everybody is actin' like it is.”

Rockso eyed him, but didn't say anything. He could always depend on that; some weird unspoken rule that they wouldn't drag on about one anothers addiction issues. Anybody else would probably suggest he was an idiot and shouldn't be out drinking after just getting out of the hospital, but other people were idiots.

“S-so long as you're ok-k-kay”

Pickles smiled at him, the other man smiled shyly back at him before ordering more for the both of them to drink. Yeah if Pickles was right this could end up being a good night.

Twelve drinks in the two of them ended up moving from the bar to a booth near the back of the building away from the annoyed stares of pissed off country men who were getting tired of the 80s rock scene when it had only just started.

Pickles found after nearly an hour of drinking he had a decently attractive blue haired pretty boy leaning against him. He also found that he was reconsidering the idea of not having sex with anybody. 

“Hey dude I fucking heard you uh got a girlfriend or something....Like that a thing or what?” The red head asked, he took a long drink from his bottle when he realized just how awkward the question came out as.

Rockso stopped leaning against him and moved so he was now leaning against the wall.

“Y-yeah k-k-k-kind of....Not no-now, but I did.” He responded sadly, he kept his eyes locked on the table like it would be too awkward to meet his friend's eyes at this point.

“What happened?”

“I don't really want to ta-talk about it, you'd probably th-think I'm an id-idiot or something.”

Pickles rolled his eyes, he pushed a glass towards the other man. Rockso glanced up at him, Pickles smirked at him and the other man smiled in response. 

“You're not an idiot. Now drink and fucking forget about your girlfriend problem.”

The other singer nodded in agreement before drinking from the glass his friend passed to him. The red head felt more content when his face paint wearing friend moved closer to him. 

He was vaguely remembering it being like this the last time they hung out, maybe some making out as well. 

Pickles occasionally looked at the other singer. He wasn't bad looking, he had the pretty boy look, but that always seemed really common anymore. Pickles wasn't entirely sure why he was into him, maybe he felt a bit bad for the way other musicians treated him or it was their common shared interests in drugs and alcohol. There was a strong appeal to somebody he could get fucked up with and they wouldn't judge him or leave him off somewhere.

“Hey dude I was thinking I've had a really shit day and well....I fucking have a hotel room maybe we could just y'know hang out there, get fucked up. I still got some shit stashed under the bed.”

“Y-you r-r-really wanna hang out with me?”

“Yeah dude why the fuck not?”

The blue haired man took a drink just to stall from having to explain how most other rockers seemed annoyed by his very existence.

“N-nobody r-really sticks around lo-long.” 

“Eh fuck them dude, most them are just assholes anyway.”

Pickles picked his bottle up again, he took a long drink determined to finish it off. He looked out of the corner of his eye when Rockso leaned against his side again, head resting against his shoulder. When he put the bottle down on the table the other man went to move away, but stopped when Pickles wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“S-So-sorry” 

“What for?”

“I p-pro-probably shouldn't be all o-over you.” The other man said laughing nervously.

“Doesn't bother me, trust me.” 

It really didn't bother him. He was drunk as hell and so was the other man, there was barely anybody left in the building, and he was slightly beginning to remember he kind of liked kissing a dude he sort of remembered knowing. 

Fuck it.

Pickles leaned down kissing the other man quickly. He smirked at the surprised look on his face, Rockso sat up putting that slight space between them again. The red head moved closer to him this time he went for his neck kissing and biting against his skin. He smirked against the other man's skin when he felt fingers tangling in his hair. Rockso moaned softly when Pickles ran his tongue against his neck, the ball of his piercing rolling nicely against his skin. When he sat back the taller man was looking at him like he wanted to make a move, but didn't trust himself to do so. Pickles hooked two fingers under the collar he wore around his neck and pulled him in until their faces were barely an inch apart.

“You okay?”

“c-c-yeah”

“Good”

The red head kissed him again, he felt proud when his friend kissed back with a sloppy eagerness that nobody over seventeen should even have. He liked the other man didn't know where to touch him while they were kissing, he liked that unsteady nervousness. Maybe just cause it made him feel in control for a second or two or it was just because he was severely drunk and he was shamelessly aroused by just how feminine his friend could moan. 

Pickles pulled away, Rockso was still staring into his eyes waiting for whatever he wanted to do next.

“We should probably get outta here, c'mon.”

He got out of the booth with the taller man following closely behind. He knew the few men that had been in the bar must be grateful that the two makeup wearing men with long hair were finally gone. It was better to leave on their own accord than to be tossed out on their asses.

“Wait here dude I'm gonna call Tony to pick us up.” 

“Ok-k-kay”

Pickles went to the pay phone that sat close to the building, he put in his money, and dialed for the hotel his band was staying at. If he was lucky then Tony would answer and he wouldn't be too wasted to get his clothes on and come pick them up. It wasn't like he really wanted to see his friend at the moment, but he didn't want to put out more money for another taxi and he sure as fuck wasn't getting in contact with their manger.

By the fourth ring somebody picked up.

“What is it?”

“Dude it's Pickles, I need you to pick me up.”

“Fuck dude you alright?”

“Yeah no thanks to your ass, you guys fucking bailed on me.” He shot back angrily at his band mate.

“No we didn't we went to get help or something...Where you at?”

“That stupid fucking Ranch bar, it's like twenty minutes from the hotel. I need you to pick us up.”

“Wait, us?”

“Yeah”

“What chick you pick up?”

“I don't have a fucking chick.”

“You gotta tell me dude, you know how I feel about random people in my car.”

“God you're fucking annoying. I got Rockso with me.”

“Wait...Fucking seriously?” Tony responded laughing.

“Yeah, what?”

“Nothing just....He's like a complete fucking loser, dude he can't even talk right half the time.”

“Fuck off, you gonna pick us up or what?”

“Yeah sure I'll be there in a few minutes.”

Pickles hung up the phone before his band mate could make another comment. 

He returned to where the other singer stood leaning back against the building.

“Tony should be here soon...Eventually” 

The red head reached into the pocket of his jeans pulling out two joints he had somehow managed to keep through his trip to the hospital. He handed one off to the taller man lighting his first then his own.

“Is h-he ok-k-kay with picking m-me up?” Rockso asked curiously

“Yeah, why wouldn't he be?”

“He doesn't li-like me”

“His problem, asshole owes me anyway.”

Pickles still didn't get why anymore his friends were irritating him so much. Rockso wasn't irritating him, he almost felt fucking relieved to be spending time with the guy. Just somebody who was outside of his usual circle of asshole friends, it was a good change. 

Pickles took a hit from his own joint, he placed his mouth over the other man's pushing the smoke from his own lungs into his friend's. He felt fingers in his hair petting gently through it, the red head kept the other man pressed back against the wall even after he pulled away.

“You taste like weed” The shorter man said laughing to himself.

“S-so do y-y-you” Rockso responded smiling down at him.

They kissed only stopping when a car violently pulled into the parking lot and the strung out musician with purple hair behind the wheel began angrily hitting against the horn to draw their attention.

“Come on dudes I got shit I want to do!”

The two moved away from the building and went to the car.

“Like what shoot more heroin into your balls?” 

“Fuck off, one time man.” Tony said glaring at his friend.

The combination of the weed, the alcohol, and the blue haired singer feeling him up in the back seat of the car made it easier for Pickles to be around one of his band mates.


	4. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am starting to like this pairing a lot.

He credited that they at least managed to make it inside the elevator. The people in the hotel lobby hadn't seemed too pleased with their drunken rambling or their hysterical laughter over nothing at all or the way they would grope on one another. That was G rated compared to their actions the moment the metal doors closed and Rockso hit one of the numbers, maybe the one for the correct floor. Pickles couldn't remember if he even told his friend which floor his room was on, it didn't matter. Not really. He kind of forgot why they were there when the taller man placed a hand against his chest and shove him back against the wall. He stumbled and would have fallen if not for the wall and railing pressed against his back, he laughed at himself until the other man started kissing him. Laughing turned to sighing which devolved into deep pleasured moaning when the blue haired man's tongue slipped into his mouth stroking and caressing his own. He ground up against the hand rubbing at his erection through his jeans. Pickles pulled the other man closer to him, he bit at his bottom lip tugging. The red head moaned when he heard the sound of his zipper being undone, Rockso pushed his jeans down enough to give himself better access to the younger singer's cock. 

The blue haired man pulled away from the kiss and dropped to his knees, he took hold of his friend's cock giving one slow stroke, his thumb circling the tip of his cock causing his hips to jerk in response to the tingle of pleasure he felt at the small action. He moved his hand back down to the base, a second later his mouth was on his cock, tongue working against the underside then back to the tip running over it over and over again. Pickles tangled his fingers in thick hair groaning and gently bucking his hips into the older man's mouth.

“Fuck dude” He moaned out, he gritted his teeth trying to keep the sounds to a minimum.

He smirked thinking how he hadn't bothered keeping quiet when they had been heatedly and drunkenly groping each other in Tony's car.

Pickles closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He moaned and cursed at the feeling of a velvety tongue stroking against his cock and calloused fingers gently working on his balls. He opened his eyes when he heard a ding and the pleasurable sensations left him. He looked to see the elevator doors open and his friend standing near them now smirking at him.

“W-w-we're at y-y-your fl-floor” 

“Oh...Yeah, heh fucking forgot about that.” He said as he tucked himself back inside his jeans with some difficulty.

He was grateful there was nobody on the floor waiting for the elevator, last thing he needed was to get kicked out of the hotel for indecent exposure. 

Pickles walked down the hallway with Rockso following closely behind, the taller man took hold of his hand lacing their fingers together. Normally the red head would laugh and comment how gay that was, but he knew how oddly sensitive the other singer was so he kept the comment to himself. Besides he let the dude blow him in the elevator, he really couldn't call anybody gay right now.

After checking the number on his room key just to remember what room he was even staying in they arrived at said room. It took Pickles several failed tries to get the key in the lock, it didn't help while he was trying to put the key in that Rockso was kissing and biting at his neck. 

“C'mon knock it off you're distracting me, I can't get the key in.” The shorter man said laughing to himself, he groaned when he felt a hand over his crotch.

“S-so-sorry” His friend whispered, he continued kissing his skin. He pulled him back against him, Pickles could feel the older man's hard on rubbing against his ass.

“Yeah you feel totally sorry.” 

Pickles got a moment to concentrate when the taller man stopped teasing him and instead just nuzzled against his neck and loosely wrapped an arm around his waist. 

He sighed with relief when he managed to get the key in the lock and get it turned the right way and pushed the door open. Rockso removed himself from the smaller man allowing him to get inside of the room. 

When the door closed and the lock clicked Pickles found himself pushed back against the door, his arms wrapped around the taller man's neck for support. He didn't really think his friend had a dominant bone in his body, but he seemed to have a good handle on things. Not that Pickles minded. He found himself trying to take control, he looped his fingers beneath the spiked collar around the taller man's neck. 

“I'm not sober enough to fuck standing up dude.” 

“M-me ei-either”

Rockso stepped back a bit, Pickles kept a hold on him by the collar and lead him over to the messed up queen sized bed that was situated in the middle of the room. Bottles of vodka, syringes, cocaine, and weed were still laid out on the bed. Pickles pushed his friend down onto a part of the bed that wasn't cluttered with drugs, he settled on the older man's lap his hands pressed against his bare chest. Pickles leaned down kissing him hard. Rockso moved his hands to the younger man's ass pulling him closer to himself, Pickles ground down against him. He pushed the taller man down onto his back, Rockso placed his hands on the other man's hips his fingers rubbing up and down over his skin. 

Pickles removed his shirt tossing it to the side, the blue haired man sat up enough that he could kiss and lick at the smaller man's skin. He nipped at the skin over his collar bone making him groan, Pickles combed his fingers through his hair encouraging him to keep going. The older man's tongue trailed down over his chest towards his stomach, he pulled away and turned his attention to the drugs laid out on the bed. He picked up a joint and a lighter, Pickles began kissing and biting at his neck while the older man lit up for himself.

Rockso tapped on the younger man's shoulder getting his attention, Pickles pulled back looking at him. He took the joint that his friend held out to him, while he smoked the blue haired man began working on trying to get his jeans off.

Pickles reached down pushing the older man's hands away, “You get naked, then I'll take my pants off. Only fair man.”

The older man glanced away nervously, “I-I don't kn-know...”

“You barely got anything on anyway, c'mon it's fine man.” He whispered before kissing him.

“Ok-k-kay” 

Pickles moved off of his friend's lap and settled down on the bed. He continued to take long deep drags from the joint he held between his fingers as he watched the taller man awkwardly move off of the bed. The red head casually smoked while watching his friend and thinking about just how awkward he kind of really was. He wondered what he looked like without the face paint and what his real hair color was. It was odd just how overly sure everybody was of themselves, completely full of shit, and then there were dudes like Rockso. Who weren't, they tried to be usually in the form of joking around and acting like complete idiots, but mostly they were awkward and anxious. Pickles felt bad for him, it made him like him more as well. The whole time he watched him undress he was trying to see what he was so self conscious about, he didn't see anything at all wrong with his body. 

….That was until his eyes picked up on the scars littering his forearms. 

The younger man reached out grabbing his lanky friend by his left arm pulling him closer to the bed so he could look at the marks. He turned his arm over revealing a thick long lined scar from the base of his palm down at least seven inches. Pickles exhaled the smoke he had been holding in then put the joint out in the foam container that sat on the bed. He trailed his fingers over the thick scar not even really thinking about how uncomfortable it was making the other man.

“Fuck dude when did this happen?” He asked looking up to meet his friend's eyes.

The taller man was glancing off to the side, Pickles still kept a hold on his arm.

“L-l-long time a-ago.”

“How come?”

“I was sa-sa-sad a l-lot” He responded softly.

“Sorry about that, don't worry about it though man....We all got fucking scars y'know.” He released his friend's arm and motioned for him to come sit with him on the bed.

Pickles moved back until he was leaning against the headboard, the taller man crawled onto the bed moving on top of him. The red head pulled him closer by his dog collar, he leaned up kissing him deeply. This time he didn't push his hands away when Rockso started to remove his jeans, he tilted his hips upwards making it an easier task for his friend. Once they were pushed down far enough Pickles kicked them off the rest of the way kicking them to the floor as well as some of the beer bottles and other items on the bed. Pickles placed a hand on the older man's back his nails gently digging in against his lightly tanned skin, he moaned when he felt a hand slowly moving down his body. 

He arched into his friend's gentle touch, legs parting further when he felt those fingers traveling down between his thighs. When he felt his friend touching over his own scars on his inner thigh he bit at his lip attempting to distract him from questioning about that. This had to be the only time he knew somebody would ask and not in a way where they would mock him.

“Wh-wh-what happened?” 

“Told you, we all got scars. I'm fine now, don't worry bout it.” He answered smirking up at him.

He kissed him when he noticed he still looked concerned. Pickles wasn't sure how to handle people feeling concern for his well being, it was weird in a way he probably shouldn't like or get used to. For now it was okay, it wouldn't last too long. This was just for a night or two, besides he kind of deserved something nice for himself, and he was guessing the man on top of him deserved something nice as well.

Rockso moaned when Pickles reached down taking hold of his cock and started stroking him. He bucked his hips thrusting into the younger man's fist, the red head smirked into the kiss. He didn't really care who topped at this point, one way or another he got to hear the blue haired man moan and that would work out for him. He liked the way that he moaned, it had a girlish touch to it that made his cock become increasingly harder. 

“Fuck you're hot dude” Pickles whispered after hearing the other man moan out his name.

His friend smiled sheepishly up at him, Pickles kissed him gently.

“C-c-can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“C-co-could you c-c-call me Leonard instead of Rockso?” 

“Sure....That your real name?”

“Y-yeah”

“No problem Leonard” He replied before kissing him again.

Well he already knew more about the guy he was making out with than he knew about any girl he had fucked in the past year alone. That was good or it was bad, he didn't know. Some rule about not knowing much about people you fucked, he was pretty sure it was bad then. He liked the guy though despite all the shit talking his friends did about him. He didn't have much in the way of bad things to say about a guy who was between his legs and kissing the scars on his thighs like he just needed something to worship at the moment. Nobody else treated him this way and he was sure nobody treated the blue haired man all that well either. 

Pickles brushed his fingers through his frizzed out hair, the older man's pale blue eyes looked up at him for approval on what he was doing. The red haired guitarist smiled and nodded, he relaxed as he let his friend do what he wanted to do. Something about having your body worshiped by another person's mouth and hands was pleasant, warming, and made him curse and pray to Gods he didn't believe in despite coming from a very Christian home. 

“Fuck Leonard....Fuck....”

The red head reached over picking up a discarded bottle of lube off of the bed and handing it to his friend hinting for what he wanted now. Leonard removed his fingers from inside the younger man's entrance and grabbed the bottle from him. Pickles watched as his friend coated his cock in lube, he groaned when the older man pushed inside of him. It was never a highly comfortable sensation for the first couple of minutes, depending on who was fucking him depended on if it got better or not. He wasn't really worried about that this time around. Pickles wrapped an arm around the taller man's neck, fingers buried in thick hair as he leaned up kissing him roughly. Leonard thrust into him slowly careful not to hurt him, Pickles rocked his hips against him trying to pick up the pace especially when he felt the tip of his cock pushing against his prostate making him forget how uncomfortable anal could be. 

“Harder” He muttered against his lips, the taller man obliged. Pickles smiled into the kiss when his friend picked up the pace. He groaned and bucked his hips when he felt fingers digging into his hips, Leonard pulled his body down closer burying himself in him to the hilt.

“Fuck just like that dude, fucking perfect.” 

Pickles trailed his fingers against the other man's painted cheek, he kissed him gently then more deeply. He found himself moaning and begging with each thrust the older man gave. Long fingers tangled in red hair and whispered praises against his lips had the younger musician going absolutely insane. 

Leonard moved a hand down between their bodies, he began stroking the younger man's cock in time with his quick thrusting. He kissed and licked along his friend's neck and chest paying attention to the pitches of his moaning and his heavy quick breathing as he got closer to cumming. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the younger man, not as well as he liked Dory moaning it. He tried to not think about her though, he was good with this. Besides Pickles was nice to him and didn't mind his scars.

He liked the way the other singer kissed him, the urgency in the way his lips sloppily worked against his. Leonard moaned when nails dug into his back and he felt Pickles cock twitch as he came over his fist, cum running down over his fingers and dripping onto the younger man's lower stomach. Pickles reached down taking hold of the older man's hand pulling it up towards his mouth, Leonard watched as the red head licked the cum from his fingers. The lazy look of lust in green eyes and the feeling of a warm wet mouth wrapped around his fingers was enough to push the older man over the edge. With one more hard deep thrust he came inside of his friend. The two of them stayed for a moment in a weird lazy silence just looking at each other, smiling dumbly. Leonard kissed him softly as he pulled out of him and sat back on the bed, Pickles pulled himself into a sitting position as well. He leaned over the side of the bed picking up a shirt and handing it to the older man giving him something to wipe himself off with.

“I think I needed that more than I thought I did.” Pickles said laughing lightly.

The other man nodded in agreement, he tossed the dirty shirt back onto the floor.

“Damn your girlfriend is dumb leaving you, mots girls just pay for a lay like that.”

Leonard tense and looked away.

“Shit sorry”

“I-i-it's ok-k-kay” 

Pickles picked up a bottle from the night stand and offered it to the blue haired man. Leonard took it and drank from it, he didn't even question what was in it. He just trusted his friend's judgment on these things.

“So what happened between you guys?” Pickles asked curiously.

He knew his friend didn't really want to delve into the topic of his ex-girlfriend, but the red head was still curious.

Leonard lowered the bottle, he tapped his fingers nervously against the thick glass. Pickles stole short glances at the scars on his wrist and felt that pang of emptahy.

“I-I don't kno-know if I should te-te-tell you.”

“Why?”

“It's re-rea-really b-b-bad”

“What was she like married or something?”

The older man shook his head.

“You don't have to tell me, but I swear I'm not gonna judge you or something like that.”

Leonard met his eyes, he looked so nervous.

“P-p-promise?”

“I swear”

The blue haired man slowly nodded his head like he was accepting maybe his friend was telling the truth.

“W-we brok-k-ke up because....I fo-found out she w-wa-was under age. I didn't k-k-know when I st-sta-started dating her t-th-though.” 

Leonard kept his head lowered and his eyes focused on the sheets on the bed. He felt too ashamed of himself to see the younger man's reaction.

“Did you love her?”

“Y-y-yeah....I still d-do”

“She was totally consenting right?”

“Y-y-yeah I'd ne-never do anything to h-hu-hurt h-her.” He defended.

“That's all that matters dude, sorry things went bad though. I really am.” 

Leonard looked up confused at the younger man's reaction. Pickles was sitting with his back to the headboard, a bottle of his own in hand.

“Y-y-you aren't ma-ma-mad?”

“Nope.”

“Eve-everybody thinks I...Thinks I h-hu-hurt her.”

He hated how everybody was thinking that way, how they thought he was some kind of monster. He thought about the clown demon, the voices he heard and was hearing more so now after he lost Dory.

“Fuck them. You didn't and that's the important thing.”

“M-m-my career is fuc-c-cked”

“Not for long, you're good man...You'll get back again, don't stress.”

Leonard nodded in agreement even if he wasn't sure Pickles was right about that. He took another long drink from the bottle then tossed it to the side. 

“C'mere man”

The blue haired man crawled over to him and lay down by his side, head resting on his stomach. He closed his eyes smiling softly, Pickles pet his fingers through his thick blue hair.


	5. Promises to Not Keep (Let Alone Remember)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is really close to the end...One more chapter and something completely different.

Pickles sat on the bed in his trashed hotel room, cigarette in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other. The more that he drank the worse his hang over got, but at the same time he was pretty sure the throbbing in his neck and his skull was dulling with the more he chugged from the glass bottle. He enjoyed waking up in his room, not the hospital, his continuing lack of sobriety felt like a personal victory to him and an even bigger fuck you to his manager who was practically begging him to get his shit together.

The red head snickered to himself before taking another drag from his cigarette, after exhaling the smoke into the air he took another long drink from the bottle. 

That douche bag didn't know a damned thing about what he was talking about. He was fine. Top of his game. He was a fucking brilliant musician when he wasn't over dosing or getting arrested for bar fights and assaulting officers. Pickles was growing sick of the way they treated him, acted like he was the one holding himself back. It wasn't him. It was them. His band mates with their hang ups and their ideas to even start doing fucking ballads on their next album.

He was interrupted in his annoyed thoughts when he heard a door click open. Until a tall tanned lanky guy with soaked blue hair walked into the room he had totally forgotten he hadn't been alone last night. Actually at the moment he was just more so distracted seeing the taller musician without all of the black and white makeup, it was weird.

“Yo...” 

The older man stopped and looked at him eyes widening slightly like he'd been caught doing something wrong. He lowered his head so that blue strands of hair could fall over his face.

“H-hey....I di-d-didn't t-t-think you would be u-u-up.” 

“Morning drinking, cures hang overs....Hey dude come over here for a minute.”

The taller man continued standing there at the edge of the bed eyeing him cautiously like he'd been in this situation half a dozen times before and knew it could never end well. When Pickles motioned for him to come over to him then he did. Leonard climbed onto the bed and knelt in front of the smaller man. He watched him with that cautious anxious look that was a million times more readable without all of the makeup. Pickles placed a hand against his cheek, fingers touching over his skin. The guy wasn't all that bad looking. Nothing fucking exceptionally mind blowing, but pretty....Feminine. Not that he minded or expected anything else out of him. He seemed more skittish without all of the makeup, without something to hide behind. 

“You ever go without the makeup?”

“N-n-no....Ju-just with Do-Dory” 

The red head smirked, “So I'm like the second person to see you without all the corpse paint shit on? Cool....You're kinda fucking good looking by the way dude.”

“Y-y-you think s-so?” Leonard asked more curious and less anxious this time around.

Pickles hummed in reply. He placed a hand on the back of the taller man's neck pulling him down closer to himself. Leonard settled himself down on the smaller man's lap moaning into the kiss. Pickles smiled against his lips at the soft sounds that his friend was making as they continued to kiss. He was pretty sure one night stands were supposed to end by the time the sun rose, but fuck it. Not technically a one night stand. Just sex with a friend who was going through a rough spot.

He combed his fingers back through his friend's hair tangling his fingers in the thick wet mess. 

Leonard buried his face against the crook of the younger man's neck, he trailed his tongue up along his skin before gently biting down. Pickles smirked, he moved his hands from the taller man's hair down to his shoulders digging his fingertips into his skin. He moaned when his friend bit harder testing to see what the younger rocker was okay with, the moaned appraisals were enough to encourage him. Leonard moved his hands down between the shorter man's legs, fingers trailing against his scarred inner thighs. Pickles parted his legs giving space for his friend to settle between them. The smaller man wrapped his legs around the other musician's back pulling him down closer on top of him until they were skin to skin. He could feel the older man's hardened cock brushing and pushing against his lower stomach, he reached a hand down between them taking hold of his erection giving long lazy strokes. Leonard moaned, he bit against the other man's neck hard enough to break the skin. Pickles smirked and gave faster more firm strokes, his thumb circled the head of his cock then ran back and forth across the tip. His friend's hips jerked in response to the shocks of pleasure the red head's hand was causing him. Leonard moved from kissing and biting against his neck to his lips kissing him hard. He cupped the smaller man's face in his hands his thumbs brushing lovingly against his cheeks.

Pickles groaned and whimpered into the kiss, he muttered curses at every nip at his swollen lower lip. Anything he could do to earn more moans and hard bites from the man on top of him he was doing it. When their frantic kissing ended they sat staring at each other, pupils blown and swollen lips parted. Leonard looked at him like in his strung out little brain he could worship him, Pickles smirked up at him like this was the cutest thing in the world to him at the moment. 

“You're fucking cute.” The red head said his voice lust heavy and drunk.

Leonard laughed and shook his head, he mouthed the compliment was bull shit, and kissed his friend before he could say anything else. 

He was fine with it when he ended up on his back with Pickles on top of him, the younger musician holding onto his wrists, his fingers tracing lightly over thick scars that had been around for far too long. Leonard bucked up against him letting him feel how hard he was, Pickles bit down hard on his lower lip earning small whimpers and moans. 

“Stay here for a minute, okay?”

“Ok-k-kay”

He watched with mild curiosity as the shorter man got up off of the bed and went off to the other side of the room to where a pile of suitcases lay. Pickles went through the top suitcase for a bit before pulling out a small clear bag full of colored pills. He returned to the bed, bag in hand, and climbed back on top of the taller man straddling his lap. He opened the bag pulling out a pink colored tab, he sat the rest to the side.

“You trust me?” Pickles asked still smirking at the man under him.

Leonard laughed and nodded in agreement.

The red head placed the pink tab on his tongue and leaned down closer to his friend, he placed his mouth over his kissing him and passing the drug off into his mouth. The older musician swallowed the pill down, he could feel his friend smiling against his lips.

“Y-y-you're l-l-like a f-fairy drug m-mother” 

Pickles laughed, “Heh fuck I think I like that title, sounds better than asshole.”

The shorter man sat back taking a blue pill out for himself. He returned his full inebriated attention to the man laying beneath him; kissing and licking down along the side of his neck down to his chest. Leonard tangled his fingers in thick red hair gently tugging encouraging him to go lower. Pickles trailed his tongue down the center of his friend's stomach, he bit and nipped at skin earning hisses and sighs. He glanced up at the pale blue eyes watching him with intense interest. If the guy hadn't told him he'd had a girlfriend just recently he would have figured he'd never had sex with anybody before.

Pickles wasn't accustomed to being looked at like that, most women he got with just looked bored with him and whatever he did. 

Between the look of adoration and all the alcohol and ecstasy he'd consumed this morning he felt more sure of himself and his actions. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the other man's cock holding onto him as he took the head into his mouth sucking lightly. Leonard moaned and moved his hips, Pickles licked and sucked at the tip of his cock earning more pleasured and frustrated sounds from his friend. Leonard tightened his grip on his hair pulling harder, Pickles took more of his cock into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around his length, fingers moving to his balls rubbing gently. 

The red head pulled off of him much to the taller man's obvious wide eyed disappointment.

“Hey you cool with it if I fuck you?”

“Y-yeah I-I'm ok-k-kay with that.” He responded eagerly

“Just checkin', some dudes fucking think that's too gay for them.” 

Pickles didn't mind being bottom, but anytime he got the chance with guys at a certain level of femininity he felt it gave him a chance to be more dominant. He also highly liked the idea of making his friend scream his name. Pickles moved away long enough to search for and find the bottle of lube beneath a pillow on the bed. He settled back between the older man's spread legs, Leonard watched him as he coated his fingers with lubes then leaned down slowly pushing two fingers inside of him. The blue haired singer bit at his bottom lip to keep from making sounds as his friend fingered him. Pickles leaned down licking a trail from the base to the tip of his cock, he took the head into his mouth sucking lightly as he continued to prep him. He added a third finger when his friend bucked his hips and let out a pitiful sort of sound between a moan and a whimper. Pickles continued teasing until his friend's moans were nothing, but stuttered curses, and his own cock was so hard it was starting to ache. 

He pulled his fingers out and sat back on his knees, he coated his own erection in lube then took hold of Leonard's legs pulling him closer. The blue haired man propped himself up on his elbows, he watched the younger musician push inside of him. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from moaning or whining at the feeling. Not like it was the first time he'd done this, it had just been awhile as far as he could remember it had been.

Pickles pulled half way out before pushing back inside. He built up a slow gentle rhythm until the other man began meeting him thrust for thrust. The blue haired man leaned up placing a hand on the back of his friend's neck pulling him down and kissing him hard. He lay back down with Pickles on top of him, the smaller man thrust into him harder as they kissed. 

“Fuck....Fuck dude you feel really good.” Pickles buried his face against the crook of his neck biting and kissing.

He dug his fingertips into his friend's hips holding him firmly as he thrust into him over and over again. Leonard pulled hard on his hair until Pickles was back to kissing his lips. The red head moaned into the kiss when nails dug into his back.

Pickles liked the way that his friend felt, he liked the sounds he was making and the way he was thrusting against him. 

“H-harder”

He had no problem with that. Pickles picked up his pace, he reached down between them taking hold of his friend's cock stroking him in time with their frantic thrusting. Their kissing was a cross between sloppy and rough, like needing something they didn't have a clue about. Whatever it was it was driving them insane and they needed more of it. Leonard bucked up against him, he pulled and tugged at his hair and growled into the kiss at one point when Pickles bit his lip too hard. The red head was more than satisfied with it when the taller man ended up on top of him. He was content to lay there smirking up at him, his fingers rubbing up and down along the scars on the inside of his left wrist. He noticed his friend seemed to like it when he touched the wrists scars now, like it was a consolation for pain from ages ago. Pickles knew the feeling, it was a morbid connection between two people. Just like the moans and curses filling the hotel room was its own connection, communication. It worked for them, for now, and it was addicting in its own sense. Any chance they got they were kissing and touching every inch of skin they could possibly reach, with every thrust and stroke both of them got closer to their own endings. Pickles bit and licked along his friend's throat drawing him closer to cumming with each firm stroke. He smiled hearing his name being called out when Leonard came into his hand, he liked the sound. It helped him reach his own orgasm cumming inside of the taller man. 

The two of them stayed there for awhile just holding onto each other, kissing lazily and laughing for no reason other than the lack of sobriety and a lacking of sanity. 

“I t-th-think I n-need an-nother sh-shower.”

Pickles grunted a half ass reply, he was combing his fingers lovingly through his friend's thick frizzy hair. He kissed against his cheek and his forehead, Leonard seemed confused but okay with the gentle signs of affection that he wasn't used to receiving from men.

“Me too....We can take one together.”

“S-sounds g-good to m-me.”

Another wasted minute or two they got up from the bed, another tab of E and they were in the bathroom. The water in the shower got turned on, but the two of them ended up leaning against the counter in the bathroom lazily making out. Pickles kept his arms wrapped around the taller man's neck doing his best to not focus on the severe height difference, not like it seemed to matter too much. It took effort to break apart and get into the shower, even more effort to clean themselves between short make out sessions. 

There was something lazy and content in it, maybe because of the booze. Pickles doubted highly it had shit to do with connecting to another human being for the first time in a long time, that just sounded too dumb.

Pickles returned to the bed with his stash of narcotics. Leonard remained awkwardly in the doorway.

“What's up?” The red head asked looking away from his heroin to his friend.

“Um....Do you h-have any ma-makeup I-I c-c-can wear?”

“Yeah actually I got some of that corpse paint shit in my bag over there.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow at that, “I was trying something out.” The younger man replied simply.

“Wh-what, th-the clown thing?” He asked as he began going through the bag full of makeup in search of what he wanted.

“Fuck no, no offense....Not my thing....Just wanted to try out that fucking death metal look y'know?”

“C-c-cool”

Leonard took what he wanted and returned to the bed sitting across from his friend. He worked on his makeup while Pickles worked on getting himself as high as he could before three.

“My band thinks it's fucking stupid.” He added after a long moment of silence settled between them.

Leonard looked away from the hand mirror and his makeup process long enough to look curiously at the younger man who had been quiet for the past few minutes.

“Wh-what's s-s-stupid?”

“My metal ideas.....They just wanna do all this soft music and stuff, I want to try something new. Between that and everybody riding my ass about my drinking, I'm getting sick of it.” 

“T-th-then start a new ba-band.”

“It's not that easy dude.”

“Why?”

“Okay, how many fucking bands have you had?”

The older man was quiet for a moment before stuttering out that he'd only had the one. Pickles settled back against the headboard satisfied that he'd made his point. Besides he doubted Death metal would go anywhere, especially in the states.

“C-c-could still try.”

Pickles shrugged. The drugs were more than setting in and honestly he gave up on the idea as soon as it had come to him. Tony re-affirming the stupidity of it had just shut him off to the idea and the suggestion all together until now. He didn't see the lanky Jewish kid in the clown makeup judging his ideas on musical styles. That was always an odd plus.

“H-hey c-ca-can I ask you somethin?”

“Depends on what it is.”

Leonard sat the hand mirror and makeup to the side when he felt satisfied with his makeup, it matched the Doctor enough to make him happy for now.

“Wh-what's your r-r-real na-name?”

“Um...I'm not really sure.” The younger man answered laughing slightly.

His friend tilted his head to the side confused.

“I know I got one, they just never fuckin' called me by it. Just always called me Pickles, it's what my brother called me. So y'know whatever the fuck Seth says goes at my house.”

Pickles wasn't sure if he liked his nickname or despised it, he figured he would hate his real name just as badly. God knows what name they gave him on his birth certificate, probably something like 'Mistake' or 'Unwanted pain in the ass.' He laughed to himself thinking over the possibilities. 

“Th-that's stupid....Y-y-you still ta-talk t-to them?”

“Hell no...I left when I was like fucking fifteen, my old man sort of kicked me out.”

Yeah he'd left on his own accord, but his father's words hadn't helped all too much. 

The discussion of family had him reaching for the bag of coke sitting on the bed, he laughed when he noticed the lankier musician perk up at seeing the baggie he hadn't noticed before. 

Pickles set out lines on the surface of the mirror snorting them up with a rolled up twenty he had, he knew how stupid and pretentious that was. Didn't care.

The blue haired singer went for the approach of setting lines up on the surface of his friend's lower stomach. Pickles gently pet his fingers through his hair while he snorted line after line. 

“Way better than hanging out with Tony.” He said to himself.

Leonard sat back and smiled shyly at him, Pickles leaned in kissing him quickly.

“What about you and your family?”

“I th-think th-they hate me.”

“Harsh”

“T-t-true though....Th-they ha-haven't t-ta-talked to me since they threw me out a-after...Y'know...” He trailed off glancing down at his damaged arms.

“Eh fuck 'em and my parents as well....We never did anything wrong to them.”

Leonard shrugged like he didn't entirely want to agree with that. He always figured he could have been a better son. Maybe more athletic, less feminine, and not ended up demonically possessed and on the news for God awful things.

“I-I c-c-could have b-been m-more no-normal.”

“You aren't that weird dude, parents are just uptight. Besides don't have to worry about that shit anymore.”

“R-r-right just n-n-new shit.”

“It'll be fine, don't stress....I'll take care of you.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah. Promise. I'll fucking look after you and keep you safe.”

Leonard smiled, he settled against his friend's side resting his head on his shoulder. He didn't pull away or flinch when Pickles took hold of his wrist and gently caressed the long line of a scar there.


	6. Years Later (Boys With Scars and Empty Pasts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's the final chapter and a plot twist, I guess?

Pickles smiled against the lips of the man on top of him, he groaned and dug his fingertips into his friend's hips as he ground down against him. If he didn't think love or open affection was so over rated he might whisper something to him along those lines, but this wasn't the time for that. He simply enjoyed the feeling of thrusting inside of a tight warm body, the bite of jagged fingernails raking down his shoulders. He didn't understand a god damn word of it when Toki whispered to him, the things he moaned out and called out were foreign. It didn't make the drummer enjoy it any less, it just aroused his interest more so.

They kissed hungrily, he moaned and praised the man on top of him who was bringing him closer to cumming. He moved his hands up to Toki's hair tangling his fingers in the thick brown locks, his voice was heavy with lust and his cursed praises were harsh whispers mingled with moans when he came inside of his friend. 

Their kissing slowed down, more intimate. Loving. Loving was bad, but fuck it felt nice. Toki's hair felt nice, he liked running his fingers through it, he liked the adoring look on the younger musician's face when he laid him back on the bed and began kissing down his body. 

"Det føles fint .... Keep going, faen jeg elsker deg så mye." Toki praised as he played with the drummer's red dreadlocked hair.

Pickles looked up at him from his place at his lower stomach, he gave one last lick to his stomach before responding.

“You know I got no clue what you just said.”

“I know....That's why I said it that way.” 

“Asshole” 

There was something so familiar and nice in the wise ass smirk on his younger friend's face. Something about the praises and admiring looks like he was the best thing in the world despite how bull shit that was. 

Toki moaned and cursed when the drummer took his cock in his mouth, pierced tongue caressing the tip. The guitarist's back arched and he curled his fingers against the sheets, Pickles took more of him into his mouth sucking harder. He lightly trailed his tongue up and down along the underside of his cock doing anything he could that he knew would drive his friend completely insane. He enjoyed the moans, demands, and that over the line look of worshiping lust in those pale blue eyes. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact they had done this half a dozen times before for months now, but it felt familiar like he'd been here before. 

When the younger man bucked his hips he sucked harder, he worked him until he was cumming inside his mouth. Pickles licked and sucked until he was completely flaccid then pulled off of him. The drummer laid back on the bed and a moment later Toki was lying on top of him. The red head kept an arm loosely wrapped around him holding him closely like he wanted to protect him.

"Jeg elsker deg" The younger musician whispered before kissing his chest.

“Stop saying that to me.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“No”

“Then why don't you like it?” Toki asked curiously as he looked up at his friend.

“I don't like the way you say it.”

He felt bad at the disappointed look on his face, but it was easier to keep him at a distance. Shit hurt less when you kept people at a distance.

Toki took his attention away from the rejection and placed it somewhere else. He took hold of Pickles wrist rubbing his thumb over the not so old wounds on the pale skin.

“How did that happen?”

“You know how it happened.”

“On accident” The younger man replied rolling his eyes.

Pickles wanted to pull away from his grasp, but his touch was gentle and he eyed the straight lines with this sort of understanding sadness. It made the drummer uncomfortable for far too many reasons.

“Like the ones on your thighs, right?” Toki added still looking at the wrist scars.

“Look I'll tell you about mine when you tell me about yours.” 

The drummer lightly traced his fingers over the bumped scars spread across his friend's back for emphasis. There was a second when Toki tensed under his touch, but relaxed when he reminded himself the older man wouldn't hurt him. Pickles kissed the top of his head.

“I told you about those.”

“Yeah you told all of us years ago, a wolf attacked you.”

“That's what happened.”

The older man laughed, “Right, c'mon I know that's not true.”

“and I know you didn't get cut falling on glass.”

The two of them fell into silence, Pickles continued idly caressing his friend's long back scars, and Toki kept a firm hold on his wrist like he feared letting go of him.

“I'll tell you one of these days, okay kid?”

“Okay....Promise me you won't let this happen to you again, okay?” Toki asked glancing up at the older man.

“Sure, I promise.” 

Toki leaned up kissing him gently.

Pickles already figured it was another promise he'd break, he had a lifetime streak of doing that already. What was one more?

The silence between them seemed more pleasant now. Something comfortable, something familiar. Pickles had a soft spot and an addiction to comfort, to finding places and people that were comforting to him, but God knows it never ended well. It never really ended....Just faded fast.

He kissed the top of his younger friend's head, “You know...I like you....I'll keep you safe, okay?”

“I know” 

Pickles already knew how much of a liar he was. Not like it was the first time he'd be breaking promises to a pretty boy with scars.


End file.
